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So not long after Myka left for Dubai to pick up a rerouted doohickey from Warehouse 2 (seriously, how did that end up in Dubai?), another ping came in. Ulysses Grant's flask, missing lo these many years and last heard from sometime in the '40s, has resurfaced.
In Fredericksburg.
Just in time for the local Civil War reenactors to get their cannons on.

This is gonna be fun.
Artie was going to send Claudia and Steve by themselves, but Joshua cut him off mid-rant and pointed out there are two camps to any good reenactment, and if this flask is as Bad News Bears as Artie was in the middle of insisting, it's a four-person ping, the better to find it before someone else decides they're living the war. So there's that, at least. But Claudia's hoping she can polish off the write-up of the de-aging nonsense before she leaves.
Go go gadget Millitime, where she can write the stupid thing, not waste prime packing time, and have a sandwich while she's at it.

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"Oh, for fuck's sake, can't you just stay in one fucking place!" Joshua almost falls through the door, a small wooden box in his hand.

Glaring out the door at seemingly nothing, he swears under his breath. "I'll get you my pretty, and your fucking burrows as well."

"Oh, but if it stayed in one place then how could it effectively troll us? Think, brother dear."
She hates the damn thing too, but still.

"I'm beginning to wonder if a secondary effect of being in the Warehouse for any length of time is trolling." He sighs, shutting the door with a bang.

"I will figure out a way to get that damned thing one of these days."

Claudia rolls her eyes. "I don't know about you, but I was a troll before I got there."

"I have been a troll longer than you have been alive, sister dearest." He smirks.

"Maybe it's more a collective property. The Warehouse tends to collect people and things with trollish properties."

Claudia shrugs. "Could be. Don't know that we'll ever find out either way."

"Probably not." He sighs. "Don't know why I felt like doing some cardio instead of packing, but I did." He might've been avoiding Helena's over-packing tendancies.

"Because HG still packs like she's going to be on the ping for two months?"

"Somewhat, yes." He shakes his head and plops into a chair beside her. "I tried to help her pack once, and she fussed at me pretty hard."

Edited 2013-11-20 19:39 (UTC)

"One of these years we'll get her used to modern packing techniques."
Claudia sighs. "So. Can't say I ever expected a real-life 'get ye flask.'"

"I don't know if I ever started expecting anything. I think I've just been assuming that we can and probably will have just about anything. At least it's not a football game or something."

"No, if it's a football game Pete's going. Having to deal with the wrestlers was bad enough."
Seriously. No really seriously.

"Now that I think about it, is there anything that none of us would be qualified to do? I think we could probably find someone that would work with literally just about anything the world could throw at us."

... maybe. Possibly.

Claudia shrugs. "I have no idea, but please don't go tempting fate."

"Oh, so now the world's going to come up with something that none of us have any idea what to do with?" He snorts. "If that happens, Claudia, I will totally... actually, I don't know what I'll do, but I'll do something."

"You will buy me dinner afterward, that's what."

"Deal. I'll even buy you dinner somewhere other than South Dakota." Because really, Univille dinner is cheating.

"Ooooh, fancy." Not that she's about to turn that down.

Joshua shrugs. "Hey, if we're going out to dinner, it's gotta not be Univille. Univille's just cheating somehow."

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